


Soon-To-Be-Mother-In-Law Knows Best

by Selkie_de_Suzie



Series: Strange Hearts & Wild Things [4]
Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Comforting Kisses, Cultural Differences, Differing Standards of Beauty, Insecurity, Romance, butterfly bog, culture clash, makeout, motherly advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:25:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3559451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selkie_de_Suzie/pseuds/Selkie_de_Suzie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After experiencing a series of nasty incidences and comments, Marianne seeks advice and comfort from an unlikely source.</p>
<p>Part 4 in "Strange Hearts & Wild Things".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soon-To-Be-Mother-In-Law Knows Best

**Author's Note:**

> The names of Marianne’s pixies and Bog’s father are ones that I have come up with - please no filching, darlings!

It had started a while ago, when she had gone back to the Fairy Kingdom to talk about her plans for diplomacy with the Dark Forest. 

The day had started out on a pretty good note – woke up next to Bog, woke up a sleepy Bog with some kisses, had those kisses became a full fledged make out that had them sprawling and rolling over every inch of his mossy bed until Thang had banged on the door and innocently enquired if they needed any help, had nearly bruised her ribs from laughter as Bog had yelled at his minions to leave them be whilst furiously trying to keep her silent, remembered that she had promised to meet her father for breakfast to introduce her diplomacy idea, realized that she was going to be late, had torn around the bedchamber trying to find all of her things as Bog got ready for his own day, gave a quick goodbye kiss to Bog, had the quick goodbye kiss turn into a long, fervent goodbye kiss, ended up in yet another glorious, mind-melting make out with Bog against the door until Griselda had pounded on said door and asked if she needed to send a tray of food in along with some wedding ideas.

Marianne had finally left after that at the urging of a panicked Bog, racing as fast as she could so that she could make it to the Fairy Palace on time, as well as use the wind as an excuse for the disarray of her hair. She thought her father would buy it, as long as he didn’t notice how swollen her lips were.

She swooped into the Palace’s main hall, gracefully touching down. Almost immediately, her pixies rushed up to her, giving little squeals of delight and buzzing around her in welcome. Marianne let out a good natured groan – Thistle, Clover, and Bluebell could be more of a hindrance than a help at times, but their unabashed enthusiasm at seeing her never failed to make her feel good. “Yeah, yeah, I’m back, I missed you too,” she told them, shaking her head but grinning as they zipped around her, squeaking and chirping as they examined her. Bluebell snuggled up to her cheek before noticing the still vivid bruise on the crook of Marianne’s neck, and gave a tiny trill of distress.

Marianne blushed a bit. “Ah, nah, don’t worry about that, I’m totally fine. That’s…that’s just something Bog gave me when we were –" her mind flashed back to that heated embrace in the moonlight, Bog’s teeth sinking into her as her whole body pulsed with pleasure – “…sparring. Uh, it was an…accident.” She didn’t want to lie, but the pixies were just too innocent to understand what had actually gone down.

“Marianne!”

And then there were the people who just plain did not  _want_  to understand what was going down between her and Bog…

Marianne turned to her father as he hurried along the hallway, puffing a bit. “Hey Dad,” she said, a bit wary but still unable to keep a fond smile off of her face. He almost never flew anymore, claiming old age rather than his expansive waistline, and his face was pink from exertion.

Nearing her, he pulled her into a hug, which she readily sank into. “My dear, I feel like it’s been ages since I’ve seen you. I’ve missed you.”

She gave a laugh. “A week away from the Palace isn’t anything huge.”

He shook his head, his face serious. “It is when you’re in the Dark Forest, with all the dangers that place holds. I’m used to having you near me, safe and sound. You shouldn’t deprive your old father of your company.”

_You shouldn’t try to deprive me of Bog’s_. Biting back that comment, Marianne rolled her eyes at her father. “Dad, I’m safe in the Dark Forest too. The goblins know me, I don’t explore any new places unless Bog is with me, and even if there was trouble, I can take care of myself just fine.” The Fairy King looked far from reassured, and Marianne gave a small sigh as she stepped back from the hug before raising an eyebrow at him. “He’s fine, by the way.”

“That’s – uh, who?”

“Bog. He’s fine. Thought you would like to know that.” Marianne cocked her hip to the side, crossing her arms as she watched him.

The Fairy King’s expression immediately creased in disproval but he coughed, looking away from her. “Well, that’s…that’s good. I’m…glad to hear that.”

“Yeah, it is good” she agreed, and her hand drifted to her neck, the bite still somewhat hidden beneath her collar. “It was a good week for both of us.”

“Ah, well, that’s…I’m happy for you, dear.” He shifted uncomfortably, and Marianne felt a pang of frustration and dejection. They both knew she was testing him, and despite whatever he thought, Marianne didn’t like to make her father uncomfortable. But he had to get used to this, had to accept what was happening – Bog was a part of her life now, for better or worse.  And her father  _did_  want her to be happy…but when it meant being in love with the King of the Dark Forest…

Fighting to keep her unhappiness hidden, Marianne gave her dad a tiny smile. “So…breakfast? Am I too late? Or would an early lunch be better?”

Her father immediately brightened at the mention of food. “Please, I’m famished. And I’m sure you must be hungry as well, I doubt Goblin cuisine is entirely to your taste –"

“It was…eye opening, let’s say that,” Marianne chuckled, relaxing a bit, and she looped her arm through her father’s as they strolled down the hallway to the dining room. “Don’t even get me started on their ale -"

“Ale? I hope you haven’t been getting up to too much mischief, dear,” the Fairy King said reprovingly, nodding to a group of courtiers who passed them, who upon seeing Marianne called out some greetings.

Marianne gave them a wave and nod, before replying. “The ale thing was an adventure I don’t think I’ll ever repeat, but as for everything else, I’ve been good.” Once again the memory of Bog and her, wrapped around each other and lost to hungry passion resurfaced, and she quickly worked on making her smile a bit less lecherous. “ _Very_  good. Actually, I’ve been working on building relations between the two Kingdoms. It’s something I’ve wanted to talk to you about for a while now.”

Though she was carefully watching her father’s reaction, from the corner of her eyes Marianne could see one of the courtiers nudge another, pointing to her before gesturing to his throat. She smirked to herself.  _And so it begins. Chew on that for a bit, you gossip mongers._   She wasn’t going to flaunt her bite, but she certainly wasn’t going to make any attempt to hide it. She quickly checked to see if her father had noticed, but he seemed too preoccupied with her words, his face in a thoughtful frown.

“Building relations? I admit that there were wars in the past, but we’ve had peace between the two empires for years now, dear. I would say our relations are fine.”

“Dad, our relations are non-existent,” Marianne chided, rolling her eyes. “There’s a difference between peace and stagnation. Sure, there’s calm and order, but no understanding or communication. We kept to ourselves because we didn’t want to take the chance of upsetting that order, and we let biases rule. But now we can take those chances! Change needs to happen if we really want to grow.”

Her father sighed, his brow puckering. “I know that you’ve always wanted to bridge the gap between the two kingdoms –“

“Because it’s a good idea,” Marianne insisted, wrenching open the door to the dining room and fluttering inside. “And now that Bog and I are…well, now I have a legitimate connection to the Forest. Both Bog and I think we can use that and make both Kingdoms stronger.” She drifted down and settled herself on a chair near the head of the table, and gave the Fairy King a smile, excitement in her eyes. “I think we need to start an official diplomacy program with them. It can be our next big thing.”

Though the sigh he gave was somewhat tired, her father sat down at the table and pulled a platter of fruit to him, clearly making himself comfortable as he prepared to hear what she had to say. Marianne’s smile blossomed into a fierce grin of triumph, and she leaned her elbows on the table before laying out her idea.

* * *

 

It was late afternoon as Marianne made her way down the hall, idly looking for Dawn. The talk with her father had gone on for a long time, sliding into lunch. It had been about as successful as she had hoped for – while he was still deeply reluctant to disturb the order of the Fairy Kingdom and preferred to cling to the familiar ways of the past, her father was still able to recognize that she did indeed have a valuable connection to the Dark Forest and would be foolish not to use it. He had even pondered if establishing such a program would give them a way to connect to other empires, ones beyond the Light Fields and the Dark Forest. Marianne had taken the comment as proof of his genuine if hesitant interest and felt a fierce, happy rush of vindication – if nothing else, he was finally listening to her.

Now she wanted to see her sister to share what had happened, to catch up on what she had missed during her week away. Despite Dawn’s disinterest in politics, Marianne knew that she might be able to get her attention with her tentative idea of having Sunny appointed as an official representative of the Elves, seeing as he was one of the first to venture into the Dark Forest…and if Sunny was given a position of power, their father might ease up on the poor guy, which would no doubt cause Dawn to be endlessly thankful and supportive of the diplomacy idea. Marianne gave a little chuckle that echoed in the empty hall – so far she was able to achieve helping out her sister and her little fledgling of a project in one fell swoop. Maybe she  _did_ have a hand for this Queen stuff…

Nearing the courtyards, her ears suddenly pricked as she heard a faint and fervent chattering of voices over the burble of one of the fountains. Marianne recognized them as belonging to a group of fairy maidens that she knew of vaguely through Dawn, a flighty and gossipy bunch of females that she had never sought out but considered relatively harmless. She paid them no mind and was about to continue on her search for Dawn when she caught a brief snippet of the conversation.

“I mean, it’s just weird! You would think that being different species would be a turn off, but apparently not for Little Miss Princess –"

Marianne came to a sudden halt, stunned. She quickly ducked behind a pillar, keeping herself out of sight from the group as they lazily reclined around the fountain, enjoying the sunshine and some juicy gossip. Gossip that apparently involved her sister…

Clenching a fist, Marianne forced herself to keep calm and listened carefully, intent on getting every word.

“Oh, come on, Rebecca! It’s not like it’s a huge surprise, we always knew she was too curious for her own good…” Yawned one redheaded Fairy, languidly adjusting her dress as she stretched out on the grass.

“Yeah, but deciding to fall in love with  _that_? What is she, blind?” Giggled a brunette, fanning her emerald hued wings out to catch the sun’s light.

Nearly growling, Marianne balled up her fist, her fury growing with each word. How dare they betray Dawn like that, how dare they speak about Sunny in those catty tones! So what if she was a Fairy and he was an Elf? Dawn was crazy for him and Sunny was a sweetheart and they made each other happy and those gals had better change their tune or she was going to have to explain to Dawn why all of her supposed friends had black eyes –

The third fairy, a long-legged blonde, shrugged. “I mean, if that’s what she likes, fine, but my thing is, they just met!”

Marianne paused in the act of pushing off of the pillar to storm into the courtyard.  _They just met?_  But Sunny and Dawn had been best friends for years now –

The redhead snorted. “Oh please, Daisy,  _‘if that’s what she likes’_? You saw that scaly monstrosity, how on earth could anyone fancy  _that_? For heaven’s sake, he’s a Goblin! The King of them and that creepy forest! I’m surprised her dad hasn’t put his foot down.”

Marianne felt a swift numbness come over her, like she had been submerged in icy water, and unthinkingly fell back against the pillar, the stone cold and unforgiving against her back. It wasn’t Dawn they were talking about, it was -

“Well, knowing Marianne, she would just ignore him.” Sniffed the brunette. “Remember how she refused to give Roland a second chance, even after the King practically begged her to?”

“She always has had a mind of her own.” Nodded the blonde.

“But going back to what Daisy said,” continued the redhead, waving her hand at the blonde. “They met the night of the Elf Festival-"

“ _After_  he kidnapped Dawn,” interjected the brunette.

“ _And_  she punched him across the face, don’t forget that,” added Daisy.

“Yes, a very romantic start, I’m sure,” the redhead said, sarcasm heavy in her voice. “So after that, she heads off into the Forest, and…what? Decides that he’s the one for her? After a single night? Daisy’s right, it  _is_ weird.” 

The brunette – Rebecca – gave a little groan as she lay down on the grass as well. “I mean, you all remember what a big fuss she made after whatever happened with Roland.”

The redhead rolled her eyes. “Swore off love, took up fighting, started painting herself up with berry juice –"

“ - And she never looked at anyone else! Not once! I mean, really – can you remember how long her courtship with Roland was, Melinda?”

The redhead – Melinda – pursed her lips thoughtfully. “A little bit over two months, if you count the time they were engaged.”

“Two months! That’s a decent amount of time, I would say. And she only knew  _him_  after what,  _a night_?” Rebecca paused, and her voice turned calculating. “Well, if there was a Love Potion involved…”

Daisy gave a little squeak of distress. “Oh, how awful! Do you think there’s a chance he got her with a Love Potion too?”

Melinda shook her head. “It  _does_  seem fishy, but I think it’s the real deal. Roland tried to use the Potion on her, remember? And it didn’t work, and if what they say about the antidote is true –“

Rebecca shuddered. “But Melinda, a Fairy and a Goblin? Our Princess and the Bog King? They’re so different! How can she find  _that_  attractive? Do you think it’s like, I don’t know, a hardcore form of rebellion?”

Melinda gave a nasty little laugh. “I just hope we’re not expected to follow her lead and hook up with some goblins.  _She_  might get hot for claws and fangs, but I prefer a far more normal beau.”

Marianne felt as though her heart was in her throat, choking her, suffocating her. She tried to move but couldn’t, like her legs had been numbed by venom, unable to stop herself from hearing their vicious horrible words, how dare they,  _how dare they_ , they had no idea,  _no idea_  -  

“MARIANNE! Oh my gosh, you’re  _home_!”

Dawn’s yell of excitement echoed loudly in the hallway as she flew to her sister, beaming with delight, and before Marianne even knew it she was swept up into a big hug and was spun around in a twirl of excitement.

“Oh, it’s so  _good_  to have you back! I have so much to tell you – Oh! Wait, tell me first, how’s Boggy? Did you have a good time hanging out with him? Is that gonna happen a lot now, ‘cause if so I want to know in advance – hey…” Dawn paused in her rambling, looking at Marianne with big, innocent blue eyes. “Marianne, are…are you okay? You look –“

Marianne twisted out of Dawn’s embrace, and couldn’t stop herself from looking into the courtyard. All three girls were staring at her, faces pale and looking more than a little ill.  Her expression must have confirmed their worst fears, and they gave a collective gulp.

Dawn grabbed a hold of her shoulders, her expression now deeply concerned. “Marianne, come on, talk to me! You look as pale as a ghost –"

“I…I got to go,” Marianne muttered, her stomach twisting in sickening knots. “I promise I’ll talk to you later, Dawn, but – I just –"

“Marianne, what’s gotten into you, why –?”

Wrenching herself away, Marianne ran into the courtyard and launched herself into the sky, seeking only to distance herself from those awful words. She never ran away from anything, she always confronted her problems, but oh god,  _oh god_ , she felt ill, she felt as if she was going to puke, she had to get away before she did something she would regret,  _that’s what people thought about them_  –

She heard Dawn yell something and put on another burst of speed in case she was followed. She circled around the boulder that the Palace was housed in and quickly landed in her old room, her chest heaving. She gave a few staggering steps before sitting down hard at her vanity, trembling.  _That’s what people were saying_ …she had expected rumors about the bite, had even looked forward to them, but…this was something else, this hurt in a way she hadn’t been prepared for…

Struggling to get her breath under control, she felt a hot pulse of anger remembering their comments about Bog.  _Scaly monstrosity_? Okay, so it wasn’t far off from  _scaly-backed cockroach_ , but seriously! Yet what made her truly furious was the idea anyone would think he would use a Love Potion on her. Even without knowing the painful truth of his past, the very idea was insulting to both of them, to what they had – it was so much more, so much more than any temporary glittery magic could even dare to imitate. It was powerful and real and true and had seized them in the space of one evening and if anyone could even think –

Marianne paused in her increasingly livid thoughts, and looked at herself in her mirror. Her eyes were not blurry with tears, but there was a pensive unhappiness in them that she disliked.  _In the space of one evening_ …She gave a sigh, looking away from the glass.

Out of all the vicious comments, all the catty judgments and ignorance and gossip, that was what had struck her the most, right in that little nest of insecurities she had tried so hard to shed after all this time. The bare facts were that she and Bog  _had_  fallen for each other  _after a single night…_ and she knew it wasn’t normal _._ Oh, it was real and she would never think of denying it, but she wasn’t so naive to think that it wasn’t a hard thing for outsiders to swallow, that a night in his company had changed her. Marianne had used to be one of them, mocking stories where a soppy young damsel and an equally soppy hero were smitten and pledging eternal love as soon as they lay eyes on each other. She gave a miserable little smirk – no one could accuse  _them_  of falling for each other at first sight. But…

She clutched at her arms, hunching a bit. She  _had_  been with Roland for a far longer time, had taken it a proper pace, given herself plenty of time for everyone to say she had known him long enough to quell ideas of them rushing into marriage, even though she had been smitten with him as soon as they had been introduced. Not that anyone could have blamed her. Roland had been Mister Wonderful, the Handsome, Perfect Suitor and Knight, a bright and shining example of a Future King. He had charmed everyone effortlessly and had her father’s whole-hearted approval. 

And he had broken her heart and had shown himself to be a faithless, empty-headed, power hungry seducer.

The fact that what she had with Bog was so different from what she experienced with Roland…it made her trust it more, strangely enough. They hadn’t known each other for the proper amount of time, but…the connection between them had been immediate, though she had been loathe to admit to herself at the time. Bog had no reason to crave power – he was already a King, one who knew the power of fear as a weapon and had no use for charm or flattery. Ruling his savage Kingdom, he knew how to use his beastliness to his advantage. He was fierce and frightening and dark, snarls and spikes and scales.

He was all those things when they first met, and all those things now. But he was also awkward and shy, fiercely protective and caring to those he let in. He had shown a raw vulnerability that fateful night with his exposed heartbreak, and had responded to her own pain with a tenderness that still could leave her breathless. Even if Roland’s failure at using the Love Potion on her had cleared any remaining doubts about just what kind of feelings she had for Bog, even if they were still incredibly awkward at communicating said feelings, Marianne didn’t care. What she had gone through with Roland in all those months couldn’t even begin to compare to the emotions Bog had stirred in her that one evening.

So…why was she getting so bothered about those horrible comments?

Marianne was interrupted from her melancholy musings by a soft knock at the door, one she knew all too well. Dawn poked her head in, her eyes earnest and timid, biting at her lip.

“Umm, so…I left those girls at the fountain after making them promise not to say a single thing about you flying off like that.” She stepped quickly into the room, and closed the door softly. “Uh, I’m not sure if they’ll keep that promise…well, you know how much people love to gossip! And, heh, I mean, gossip about princesses can be really, uh…” Dawn paused, taking in Marianne’s dejected slouch, vulnerability radiating off of her. Dawn fidgeted, and Marianne saw her mouth taking on an unhappy twist – she hated seeing her big sister like this, it brought back too many memories they both wanted to put behind them. “Would…would you like me to leave, Marianne?”

Pulling herself somewhat out of her gloominess, Marianne gave her sister a soft if slightly sad smile. “No, Dawn, please stay. I just…I’m not sure how to handle what…” she trailed off, not certain if she could explain.

Dawn walked over to her rose bed and delicately perched herself on it, her expression guileless and sweetly concerned. “Marianne, what happened?”

Marianne gave a little sigh. “I heard those girls…talking about me. Me and Bog. It was… it wasn’t very nice, let’s just say that.” She should have known, should have been prepared for such comments. Even the wild celebration at their mutual confession of love wouldn’t wipe away all deeply ingrained prejudices and ignorance. She began to feel anger at herself all over again, and shifted restlessly.

Dawn gave a sigh. “I thought that might have had something to do with them. I mean, I used to think they were alright, but I keep catching them talking about me and Sunny.” She gave a little shrug as Marianne looked at her, concerned. “I didn’t bother to confront them, since it was mostly about me, and I thought I might as well get used to those kind of comments.” She paused, and a dangerous glint came into her normally gentle eyes. “But if they were talking about _you_ …” she muttered darkly.

Marianne gave a dry chuckle. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been dealing with gossipy idiots for a while now. I just was…thrown off a bit, that’s all.” She paused and shot Dawn a somewhat timid look. “Uh, Dawn? Do you mind…can you answer something for me?”

Dawn nodded her head empathetically. “Of course!” 

Marianne drew in a steadying breath.  “Dawn, you’re…you’re not bothered by me being with Bog, are you? I mean, he did kidnap you –"

Dawn gasped, her eyes wide. “Oh Marianne, no! No no no, I am totally and completely fine with you two being together! Oh, Marianne, you know me, I can’t hold a grudge to save my life!” Marianne did know that, and felt her mouth give a tiny quirk at how different they were in that regard.

Dawn continued breathlessly, stumbling over her words in her haste to reassure her. “I mean, yes, kidnapping someone is not nice but I think he honestly regretted it, because, well, I was going kind of loopy from the potion and was probably super annoying, but anyways –" she paused for a breath and continued, her voice warm and utterly sincere, “Bog is such a softy, especially when it comes to you, so yeah, there’s no hard feelings from me. And besides…” Dawn gave a soft smile, “you’re so much happier now.”

Marianne felt a little gush of affection for her baby sister that cut through any remaining gloom, and she gave a slow smile in return. “I…I am. I really am.”

Dawn’s smile lit her face, and her wings gave a little flit of happiness. “I’ve missed this,” she said impulsively, leaning forward and seizing Marianne’s hands. “This – us –"

“Us what?” Marianne laughed.

“Being friends! Talking to each other! I really…I really,  _really_  missed it.” Dawn’s smile was softer now, shyer. “I mean, ever since Roland –"

Marianne couldn’t stop her flinch, and Dawn halted, her eyes large and worried.

“I’ve missed it too,” Marianne hurried to say, but her sister wasn’t distracted.

There was a slightly awkward pause before Dawn, obviously struggling with herself, softly continued. “Marianne…will…will you ever tell me what -?”

“Yes, I will,” Marianne promised. “I swear I will, Dawn. But…not right now, not today. But I promise you, I will. Someday soon.”

Dawn looked at her face and nodded slowly, her eyes cautiously hopeful. “Someday soon,” she repeated. “Just as long as I don’t lose you again.”

Marianne felt her heart give a pained little twist at that, but she clasped Dawn’s hand in a tight grip. “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” She felt her mouth stretch in a faint grin. “Actually, if you want to do some sisterly bonding…wanna help me crush some gossiping, judgmental jerks?”

Dawn gave a little laugh, before her expression grew thoughtful. “You know, I bet not doing anything is what would really freak them out. ‘Cause now they’re totally expecting something! But if we do nothing except, like,  _glare_ at them, they’ll end up torturing themselves over what we could have planned for them…”

Marianne looked at Dawn, shocked but impressed. “This is a whole new side to you, Dawn. Deviousness suits you.” 

Dawn gave a little blush at that, and looked so ironically innocent that Marianne had to laugh, Dawn quickly joining in. She  _had_  missed this, this easy closeness with her sister.

Dawn hopped off of the bed and skipped to the door, and Marianne stood to follow her before pausing as another thought came to her, her smile fading a bit. “Um, Dawn?”

Dawn gave her a sunny smile, opening the door. “Yes?”

_Do you think it’s weird that Bog and I fell for each other in a single night?_

She wanted to ask it, wanted to get an opinion, since it still was so clearly going to eat at her…

But Dawn probably wouldn’t understand. She thought in terms of what was happening now, wasn’t one to reflect on the past. It wouldn’t have occurred to her to worry about Marianne falling for someone too quickly since all that mattered is whether or not she fell for anyone at all. Besides, she had known Sunny for years before realizing she loved him, how could she -

“Marianne?”

Marianne blinked and looked at Dawn, who was still waiting for a question. She quickly threw on a smile before continuing. “Um, do you think that we can get those girls at dinner tonight? Dad might make it a feast to celebrate me being back.”

Dawn gave a cheery shrug. “Might as well get a head start! Ooooh, I wonder if I should work on my scowl, I bet I would look so, you know,  _badass_  –"

Snorting at her sugar-sweet sister and just how “badass” she was, Marianne shook off any lingering concerns and followed after a chattering Dawn, forcing herself to focus on enjoying her time back home.

There was indeed a feast thrown in her honor, and she had felt keen satisfaction as Rebecca, Daisy, and Melinda tried to avoid her inconspicuously, wilting under her cold eyes as she let a pleasant smile play about her lips. Meanwhile, Dawn scowled at them as fiercely as she could, which made Marianne nearly choke from repressed laughter. All in all, with her diplomacy plan beginning and putting the fear of two Fairy Princesses into the hearts of some judgmental twits, her first night home appeared to be an enormous success.

But deep within her, that one comment refused to be forgotten…

* * *

 

“Bog, I swear, if you do not stop  _grinding_  your teeth, I will personally pull each and every one out _by hand -”_

Even in the inky darkness she could see the frustration in the scowl Bog gave her. “If you’re going to get mad at someone,  _Tough Girl_ , get mad at my imbecilic subjects and their constant need for noise –“

Marianne rolled her eyes at him, equally exasperated. “Is covering your ears so hard, almighty Bog King?”

“ _I shouldn’t have to_ ,” he gritted out. “I’m their King, they should  _obey_  me and my orders for  _silence.”_

“Well they obviously forgot that little fact when they decided to have a fight!” Marianne tilted her head. “Or maybe it’s a party? I swear I can hear some kind of music –"

“Out of all the subjects in all the world,” Bog snarled, his eyes squeezed shut and pinching the bridge of his nose, “I had to rule over cretins who only decide to flout my authority  _when it’s time to sleep_  -"

“I always thought goblins were nocturnal –"

“Oh,  _yes_ , and fairies bathe in glitter and dew –"

“Wha – that’s actually a  _thing?!_  That’s…that’s just  _bizarre_ , that’s even weirder than that rumor that we need our wings stroked to –"

Another resounding crash from the Throne Room cut her off, and they both turned their heads to the door of the bedchamber. Marianne heard the tell tale sound of fangs grinding against each other, and she exhaled roughly before tossing one of the mossy blankets off of her and clambering out of bed, stomping over to the door.

“What are you doing?” Bog hissed, sounding equal parts exhausted, vexed, and puzzled.

Marianne wrenched open the door before looking over her shoulder at him, the sudden dim light from the hall illuminating her burning eyes and her hair sticking up every which way. “Since you seem to be content to grind your teeth and grouse about this,” she said with a calm that was honestly rather terrifying, “I am going to show those subjects of yours’ why it’s  _not_  a good idea to mess with a Princess.” She stalked into the corridor and let her wings fan out behind her, looking up at him darkly from beneath her brows, and Bog blinked at her, a faint look of alarm replacing his enraged scowl. “Especially an exhausted one.”

She slammed the door shut and flew off down the hall, shooting down the winding stairs, the graceful fluttering of her wings now snappy and sharp. She quickly dropped into the Throne Room, where…oh lord…

The goblins were divided into two groups, one covered in mud while the other one seemed to be covered in pond scum of some kind. Two of the biggest goblins, one from each team, were currently wrestling each other, while the other goblins cheered and bellowed drinking songs. It was pure chaos, and if it weren’t so late and she wasn’t so achingly tired what with sparring and talking about all the ins and outs of her diplomacy idea with Bog and some of the elders of the goblins – most of whom had some  _major_ attitude problems, small wonder that Bog came back from meetings with them in such a surly state - Marianne would have been intrigued. She was genuinely fond of the wild creatures and how unpretentious they were. But right now, she was merely irritated right down to her toes.

Huffing out a breath, she scanned the room and saw Stuff hanging away from the crowd, looking bored and dismissive. She quickly made her way over – in her time getting to know all of the goblins, she found that Stuff had a gruff sense of professionalism and stoicism that Marianne greatly appreciated and admired, especially when the other goblins went nuts like this.

“Stuff, give me the lowdown here.” Marianne crossed her arms and cocked a hip, and Stuff rolled her eyes.

“They’ve been like this for two hours now, M’Lady. Thang tried to make them quiet down as the Bog King had instructed, but then Brutus sat on him.” Stuff gave a grumble of a sigh. “I have no idea what set them off, but it seems like it’s only just getting stronger.”

“Well, time to nip it in the bud,” Marianne muttered, and launched herself into the air, hovering over the wild, writhing mass of goblins. She surveyed the scene calmly, counting the goblins present, and took a deep, relaxing breath.

And then she screamed.

It was truly magnificent, a blood-curdling, high-pitched masterpiece that cut through the din like a hot blade through butter. It was the result of years of cultivation through temper tantrums and fits of rage, tried and tested on a dozen former royal nursemaids.

The goblins were almost immediately struck dumb, looking up at the dainty, soft butterfly creature with the banshee voice. The faint clatter of an ale tankard being dropped in shock echoed in the sudden silence.

Marianne clasped her hands behind her back and smiled at the awestruck faces below her. “So, guys, here’s the thing,” she began, her voice friendly and quite reasonable. “I understand that you guys need to party, but the thing is, you also know that the Bog King instructed you to keep quiet. We both had a very long day working out the details of the new diplomacy program. By the way, who’s excited for that? Show of hands!”

A few goblins hesitantly raised their hands.   

“Aw, thank you, you’re so sweet! Now, back to the subject – if you guys want to have this party, I think it can be just as fun outside, far away from the Dark Castle! You guys can party on, and Bog and I can get some sleep. Besides,” Marianne flicked a strand of hair away from her eyes. “You don’t want to send Bog into a rage, do you? Well, I don’t want to deal with him in a rage. So, in the end, we both get something out of you taking the party elsewhere.”

Bloodwart, one of the goblins who had held her down at the Elf Festival, gave a little cough. “Well, honestly, your highness…we’re sort of used to his rages by now.”

Marianne nodded thoughtfully at this piece of information, and let herself drift closer to him. “That’s an interesting dilemma, Bloodwart. So you’re not scared of Bog’s rages anymore…hmmm…tell me guys, have you ever seen a Princess in a rage?” She batted her eyes at them.

The goblins shook their heads.

Marianne bared her teeth in what was only technically a grin. “Do you  _really_ want to find out what it’s like?”

The skulls of goblins were known for their toughness and density, but the meaning of her words sank through quite quickly. With remarkable speed, the two teams parted and got to work picking up their mugs and tankards and quickly trudged out the door of the Throne Room, studiously silent and trailing mud and pond scum after them. Brutus sheepishly shuffled toward Marianne and gently deposited a rather crumpled looking Thang at her feet before beating a quick retreat.

Marianne watched them go, her glower softening into a tired smile. She bent down to Thang, who was curled into a twitching and slightly shell-shocked ball, and gently tapped him on his shoulder. “It’s okay, buddy, they’re going.”

Thang uncurled and let out a little gasp of relief, gazing up at her with wide, adoring eyes. “Oh, thank you, thank you Lady Marianne! Stuff and I were completely overwhelmed –"

“No, that was just you.” Stuff stated, waddling over to them.

“- and we needed someone to intervene! I must say, we expected Sire to come down, but I’m so glad it was you! I do hope you both weren’t too badly disturbed?”

Marianne chuckled, tired as all get out. “Well, it got rough, but its taken care of now. I guess I should let Bog know that you guys are too used to his temper for it to be effective –"

“Not all of us are,” whispered Thang, a slight whimper in his voice.

Stuff rolled her eyes at him before shooting Marianne an approving nod, her mouth quirked in an admiring grin. “Well done, your highness. They won’t dare to pull a stunt like that anytime soon.”

Marianne waved away the compliment, though her smile did grow a bit. “Please, it’s no problem. Now, we all need to get our sleep.” Waving to them, she fluttered off, her eyes drooping already.

She was already out the door when she heard Stuff smugly say, “I told you she would be good to have around here –"

“I never said she wouldn’t be! None of us said that! There was just some… _puzzlement_  over the King falling for her, what with, well, you know –"

“Well, even if she may not be much to look at, she’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

Marianne’s eyes, which had nearly sunken shut, shot open.  _What?_

She quickly looked behind her, her heart thudding. Stuff’s expression was neutral, open – nothing malicious in it. Her tone had been matter-of-fact, and Thang hadn’t disagreed –

_Not much to look at._

Marianne slowly turned away, drifting up the stairs in a daze, her mind reeling from what she had just heard. Stuff clearly hadn’t meant that comment to be hurtful; she had never been one to hide anything so Marianne would have known if she had anything against Marianne. Heck, Marianne was pretty sure that she was liked well enough by the majority of the goblins –

_Not much to look at._

Who apparently had nonetheless had been confused over Bog and her, puzzled over how their King had fallen for someone so strange, so ugly –

_They didn’t call you ugly, don’t put words in their mouth, don’t jump to conclusions, it was just…just implied…_

Reaching the top of the stairs, Marianne touched down and slowly began walking back to Bog’s room, lost to her thoughts. Well, what had she expected? She was a Fairy, they were goblins. They would find different things appealing, she knew that, she did, there was no point to get upset by that, they were goblins and it was different for them, they  _would_  find her unattractive…

_And Bog is a Goblin…_

Marianne shook her head, angry. What did it matter? Bog loved her; she knew that, she knew that with all of her heart, that wasn’t in question –

_What’s in question is if he would honestly call you beautiful._

Marianne halted, her heart giving an utterly sickening twist in her chest, and she wrapped her arms around her. How could she even think that, even begin to wonder…? But knowing what she knew, knowing how different each of their cultures were, would he… _could_  he honestly say she was beautiful -?

Enough. It wasn’t fair of her, to jump to conclusions, to doubt him just because she couldn’t deal with an unflattering remark. She was being incredibly immature, it wasn’t fair to worry about whether or not he ever…if he actually…it didn’t matter, he loved her, nothing else should matter besides that…

But…if goblins like Stuff were saying things like that, goblins that liked her…she had to wonder what his other subjects were saying. Was Bog being mocked for being with her? She knew that some of his subjects hadn’t been thrilled that their King had fallen for a Fairy, but she had – foolishly – assumed that most of those sentiments had been fueled by old wars with her Kingdom, old prejudices, not…not because she was seen as too hideous…

_Even amongst goblins you’re a freak._

Marianne flinched at the sudden, poisonous thought, and she glowered and started down the hallway once more, as if trying to escape it. The same kind of thoughts had tortured her when Roland’s infidelity had come to light, the same old vipers nest of insecurities coming back to life… _not enough, never enough, how could you possibly think you would fit in, ever find happiness, find love…_

She gave a grunt of annoyance and exhaustion. She was done with that, done with letting herself listen to that venomous little voice. She was making this into a bigger deal than it needed to be. So Stuff didn’t think she was pretty. Big deal. Stuff liked her anyways and thought she was good at handling a rowdy bunch of goblins. And Stuff wasn’t all goblins, and most importantly, she wasn’t Bog. Bog loved her and he had certainly shown that beneath the numerous layers of awkwardness and shyness, he wanted her as badly as she did him…

She hoped…

Reaching the door to the bedchambers, she huffed out a sigh. She was tired, overwrought. She wasn’t thinking clearly, was too sensitive after a long day of dealing with nitpicky elders. She was over-thinking things. She totally, totally was.

She opened the door as silently as she could, lest she disturb Bog, and quickly closed it.

She heard him shift the blankets back for her – so much for not disturbing him.  “The hero returns,” he greeted in a sleepy but deeply amused growl tinged with affection. “That was quite a scream, Tough Girl – I would have been worried if I didn’t know your battles cries by now.”

Marianne had been fully intending to swagger back to bed after handling the ruckus downstairs, gloating over her accomplishment. But Stuff’s comment and her resulting introspection had taken the wind out from under her wings, and she merely gave a shrug as she wearily trudged back to bed. “Hey, nothing a Princess can’t handle,” she murmured, and she hoped that the sleepiness in her voice hid how subdued she felt.

Collapsing onto the bed, she wriggled under one of the blankets before giving a grunt of surprise when Bog suddenly tugged her to him, burrowing his face in the crook of her neck. “Bog,” she laughed, distracted from her turmoil, and she squirmed in his grip, giving a little gasping giggle when he began to trail heated, lingering kisses up her throat. “ _Bog_ , oh my god, what, did you like hearing me go all Terrifying and Queenly that much?”

“ _You have no idea_ ,” he growled, and she bit her lip to stop her smile as she felt his claws slide down her back to her hips, scratching an intoxicating trail. “ _She might get hot for claws and fangs, but I prefer –"_

She leaned back, her brooding mood returning and her tiredness hitting her all over again, and she gently batted at him when he reached for her, still intent. “Hey, save that for morning, buddy, I did that so we could get some sleep tonight.”

He gave a faint groan of protest, but otherwise didn’t put up much of a fuss, letting her tug him back to the bed, and he drew her to him, cradling her to his chest in a now wonderfully familiar gesture. She snuggled deeper into the embrace, thankful for his exhaustion. She was sure that if he were more alert, he would have picked up on her gloom.

She let out a tiny sigh. She needed to sleep, needed to escape the endless worry she was caught in. She was reading too much into everything; surely not all goblins felt that way about her…Bog loved her, of that she had no doubts, and that was what mattered.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, letting the rasp of Bog’s breathing lull her, soothe her to sleep.

But Stuff’s casual comment pricked at her like a thorn, bleeding through her dreams with a poison that wasn’t likely to have an easy cure, joining the other comment that had left such a mark on her…

_“ -Decides that he’s the one for her? After a single night?”_

_“She may not be much to look at…”_

Frowning faintly in her sleep, Marianne shifted further into Bog’s embrace, seeking reassurance even as she slept…

* * *

 

“Over here, honey! I think these may be fresh! Ooooh, there’s nothing like a nice batch of mold to brighten a room!”

Heaving a sigh, Marianne tried to pick up her pace as she trudged after Griselda, her feet not used to walking for such long periods of time –at least, not over Dark Forest terrain. She would have taken to the air by now, but Griselda was still waddling along on her stubby little legs, holding onto a little basket of fungi. She had showed no sign of wariness, so Marianne felt it was only respectful to stay grounded.

Really, the stamina of the King’s Mother was truly impressive – along with covering a fair amount of ground, she had kept up a steady chatter, commentating loudly on various flora and fauna, relating old tales of the Dark Forest to her captive audience of one. Marianne grimaced to herself – well, she  _had_  volunteered for this. Griselda had been pestering Bog the whole day, saying that her new chambers needed fresh décor, and she needed an escort out to the deeper recesses of the Forest to make a proper selection. Marianne had offered her services with a blitheness that she was now beginning to regret. The look of sheer gratitude Bog had given her made her choke back a laugh, and Griselda had been overjoyed, warbling about quality time with her baby boy’s sweetheart…

Bog had looked at her with a certain grimness to his face. “Are you certain you want to do this?”

Marianne had shrugged at him, nonchalant. “It’s just Griselda, and we’re just going to be furniture hunting – I think I can keep an eye out for her. Besides, you need a breather.”

Bog squeezed her hand at that, and then tugged her close when Griselda wasn’t looking.  _“Make sure you don’t mention anything about weddings,"_ he hissed, before releasing her.  

Okay, Marianne  _should_  have known from that comment that she would be listening to Griselda gleefully ramble about wedding plans and possible grandchildren. After hours of trying to tactfully evade bubbly questions about bridal gowns and baby names, Marianne felt like she was about to itch out of her skin. She could handle Griselda normally, but by herself, with no way to dodge the questions or redirect her attention -  

Marianne stumbled, her feet twisted in a vine that had hooked around her as she walked by, lost to her thoughts. She tried to jerk free, but only succeeded in throwing herself even more off balance. With a yelp, she fell off of the path and into the thick underbrush, her shout of alarm muffled by the thicket of nettles and burrs she had landed in. Her arm banged against a tough root, and her panic quickly transformed into extreme annoyance as the little stingers caught at her skin and wings. So much for keeping an eye out…

Muttering filthy curses, she picked herself up and started brushing off the burrs, snarling when they refused to let go. She could see Griselda peering through the thicket, concerned. “Honey doll, you okay?”

She sighed. “Yeah, I’ll be fine, I just tripped over a stupid vine and –"

“GRISELDA! OH DARLIN’, IT’S BEEN TOO LONG!”

A group of goblins, lead by a large, snowy moth, were heading down the path, hurrying to Griselda, who beamed delightedly. “Oh, Blanche! How’ve ya been, sweet-pea? I don’t think I’ve seen ya since the last blue moon! You’re lookin’ good, as young as a pupa!”

The moth, Blanche, tittered, rolling her large dark eyes. “Oh Griselda, your compliments were always sweeter than honeysuckle.” The rest of the posse, undoubtedly all females, laughed gaily, a response that Marianne couldn’t help but feel was trained.  

They quickly fell to enthusiastic babbling, and Marianne rolled her eyes – who knows how long they would be out here if Griselda decided to catch up with her old girlfriends. Oh god, what if she got them started on wedding talk?  _I swear, Bog, you better make this worth it – like empty Throne Room worth it…_

She nearly smirked at the prospect, and chucked another nettle away from her, before she felt a faint tug at her wings and looked behind, groaning when she saw yet another burr there. Great…

“So, Grissy, tell me all about what’s going on with that boy of yours!” Blanche gushed.

The rest of the group giggled. “Ah, yes, our dear Bachelor King,” one little beetle snorted, and Marianne felt her ears prick despite herself. Bog wouldn’t be happy to know his mother was gossiping about him, though he probably was used to it. Still, if they said something too outrageous –

“Yes, we’re all dying to know, are you having any luck with finding him someone?” Blanche fluffed her antennas, looking around impressively before leaning towards Griselda, murmuring confidentially. “I know of a girl, good breeding, an old friend of her darling mother, who would be just –"

“Ah, Blanche, my wait is over!” Griselda interrupted proudly. “Boggy’s got himself a sweetie, and I got myself a chance at grandkids!”

Blanche gaped at her – at least Marianne thought she did, it was hard to tell with that face – and the rest of the posse seemed as equally stunned. “Is…is that right? Well blow me down with a summer breeze and call me a dandelion, ain’t that just something! Do we know her?”

“Ooh, is she that one little Praying Mantis? A bit exotic for me, but I can see the appeal –"

“Oh wait, I know! It was another frog girl, wasn’t it?”

Marianne snorted to herself, shaking off the last burr from her foot with a little kick. Praying Mantis? Frogs? She knew that Griselda had been trying to set up Bog with anyone who was interested, but jeez…

Griselda turned to her, and Marianne quickly realized that she should have made an effort to silence that laugh. She frantically shook her head and tried every hand gesture that meant “Oh Please No”, but Griselda merely beamed at her eagerly before turning back to the group. Marianne’s shoulders slumped.  _Oh…dammit._

Griselda cleared her throat loudly and grandly gestured to the thicket. “Girls, may I present the little lady who finally caught my precious boy’s eye. Come on out, honey!”

Trapped, Marianne gave a grimace, pushing through the thicket as best as she could without getting caught on anything again. She finally emerged, hastily brushing herself off. She gave as gracious as a smile as she could and an awkward wave. “Hey – uh, hello. Marianne, pleasure to meet all of you.”

“ _Princess_  Marianne, Blanche – one from the Fairy Kingdom!” Griselda gushed. “Bog sure got lucky, eh?”

There was a pause as Blanche stared at Marianne, who became distinctly aware that she was being scrutinized. It was hard to tell, but she thought there was an expression of surprise there, surprise and…distaste? The little group began to murmur amongst themselves, taking in Marianne’s face and form and wings with wide eyes. 

“Lucky…” echoed Blanche slowly, her eyes doing a slow sweep from head to toe, and her accent made Marianne think of Roland’s. She suddenly started feeling more than a bit tetchy toward this creature with her dragging vowels and judging gaze.

Blanche gave a delicate little cough and gave a bright smile to both Griselda and Marianne, though her eyes never left the Fairy before her. “Well, my dear, it certainly is wonderful that our King has finally settled down.” Her smile was large and her voice burbling with enthusiasm, but Marianne knew a façade when she saw one. The moth turned, waving to the rest of the group. “I must get going, Gris dear, we shall have to have another little chat later – toodles!” She quickly hurried the group along away from them, all of them immediately falling into intense mutters.

“Drinks are on me!” Griselda shouted cheerfully, waving her off. Her grin was as sincere as ever, obviously not sensing anything amiss. Marianne rubbed at her arm, still sore from her fall. She’s was probably getting paranoid, what with her inability to forget Stuff’s comment, all those comments…

Griselda picked up her basket and shrugged a shoulder at Marianne. “C’mon, baby cakes, we better be getting back too, it’s gonna be dark in just a few more hours.” She toddled back down the path, and Marianne made to follow her, wearily resigning herself to more walking, when part of the conversation between Blanche and her posse floated back to her. 

“ – My word, that  _face_! And those  _wings_!”

“ – At least she’s royalty –“

“ – Poor Bog, he must have been worn down all these years by Griselda’s nagging–"

“ – I mean, we all knew Grissy was hell bent on finding him someone –"

“ – But my stars! She must have been truly desperate to settle for  _that!”_

Marianne felt her stomach give a sickening lurch before it dropped out entirely, leaving her almost swaying. Even as her neck and cheeks burned, she felt her body go numb, her ears ringing.

_“That!”_  Such a simple little word, but so much derision, so much scorn, so much disgust…

She remembered with sudden, dizzying clarity those gossiping fairies, their cruel words about Bog’s appearance, and knew, knew with every inch of her heart that she provoked that same disgust, that same scorn…

She gave an airless, choking gasp, shaken to the core, her worst fears confirmed and oh god, she could no longer hide from them –

It was all true. She  _was_  hideous to them, to all of them, the Fairy freak who their King was stuck with. She wasn’t good enough for them, Bog was getting mocked because of her, she wasn’t good enough, wasn’t worthy, even here, she never would be,  _how could she have thought she ever would be_  –

Griselda called to her, cheerfully waving for her to hurry up, not noticing the utterly broken look on her face.

Marianne never made a sound or gave a sign, but bore the horrible truth and her heartache silently as she followed Griselda, too numb now to care about aching feet.   

* * *

The clouds were a molten bank of gold kissed orange, seared with a red so vibrant it seemed to come from the heart of a rose. The sky above was of a gentler hue, but no less breathtaking - a swath of primrose pink that melted into a pale, dreamy violet, which in turn was beginning to fade into a periwinkle that beckoned the velvety blue-blackness of night. It was dazzling, enchanting, the ultimate spectacle of nature’s wonder.

All of its beauty was wasted on Marianne, who was currently nursing an absolutely foul mood, caught between anger and misery.

Nestled in the window seat of one of the alcove windows Bog’s room offered, her chin resting on her folded arms, she drummed her fingers on the sill and broodingly watched the sun – what she could see of it, anyway – sink lower and lower in the sky. She looked at the colors of the sunset, the vivid crimsons and golds, the soft dusting of lavender and pink, and made a face at the glorious and innocent wonder before her. God, she felt as sour as a wild berry and as sensitive as a peeled back pod…

She sighed, annoyed at her attitude. She was restless; wanting to do something that would let her unwind, take her mind off of everything she had become consumed by in the past week. She yearned for a spar; to fly and let her body plunge in heart-racing dives, cause some chaos. But Marianne knew the difference between needing to burn off energy and wanting to avoid an issue. If she didn’t stay by the window, it would be all to easy for her to lose her attention to something else, all too easy for her to claim sheer exhaustion later and prevent any much needed discussions or introspection. Bog probably wouldn’t notice, knowing by now how she liked to push herself, how she hated to just sit around…

Marianne gave a small groan, her scowl melting into a soft grimace, her brows furrowing. She hunched further into the crook of the window seat, drawing her knees up and clasping her arms around them like a child. She usually didn’t do the sit around and wait for anyone, but tonight was different – tonight, she was tempted with every inch of her heart to avoid Bog like the plague, and that’s why she knew she  _had_  to see him,  _should_  see him. Besides, Bog wasn’t the issue here, it was all her…

She shifted uneasily – she was truly dreading the conversation she knew would have to happen. Talking with each other about their feelings would always be awkward for them, but they had been working on it. But…how the hell she tell him what she had heard, what it meant?

Marianne gave another groan and let her head drop against the windowsill with a dull  _thunk_. The ache that resulted didn’t distract her as she had hoped it would, didn’t stop her from wondering how on earth she could ever articulate the mess of her emotions to him if she was this overwhelmed just thinking about it.

Really, how can anyone say something like that without coming off as completely needy and insecure? _“Hey, so, I know that obviously both of us are super into each other and things have been pretty freaking incredible, but does it ever bother you that I’m not attractive by Goblin standards? Also, do you think it’s weird that we got together after only a night?”_ Yeah, that would start the talk off just peachy…

Marianne’s shoulders slumped. It was so shallow, so vain to be worried about that, to spend any of her time concerned over what people thought. She had dealt with brushing off whispers and catty observances her whole life, even before the Roland fiasco.  She had always been different from other fairies and she had made it her strength, channeled those traits into an armor. She was stronger because of her refusal to play by anyone’s else’s rules, and she knew that Bog loved her for it, her audacious nonconformity and disregard for others expectations making her all the more closer to him. She had relished in it, happy that she had found someone who had loved her  _because_ of her differences, not  _despite_  of them.

But…she had never been mocked for how she looked before.

_Yeah, you’re not used to being the Beast in the relationship, are you?_

Marianne gritted her teeth at that horribly familiar whisper, the viper voice of all the insecurities she had thought she had burned away. That wasn’t fair, to either her or Bog. They weren’t a Beast and a Beauty; they would never be so insultingly tidy and neatly categorized. They were both, and they were proud of that. At least, she had thought she had been proud of it, but actually hearing those comments, feeling those judgmental stares linger over her face…

It shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t hurt – she had realized that fairies and goblins had different ideas of what was beautiful, what was desirable. She wasn’t blind to that. It was pure cultural difference, she told herself. And yes, okay, it wasn’t the nicest feeling. She had always been seen as lovely, been called nothing but a beauty by other fairies, and the other subjects in the Fairy Kingdom seemed to agree with the sentiment. She hadn’t really cared, focusing on other things that seemed more important than whatever looks she might have.

But after everything that had happened, all those vicious, unthinking comments… Marianne’s ears burned, remembering what she had heard.

_“ -Decides that he’s the one for her? After a single night?”_

_“She may not be much to look at…”_

_“- Must have been truly desperate to settle for **that**!”_

It shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t hurt, but…it did. Maybe it revealed her to be vain and prideful and complacent. Maybe it showed her that even after all this time, after all her struggles to become stronger, she was still woefully insecure. But it  _did_  matter, and she felt her heart give a painful twist of unhappiness. Because…

Because try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking back to that moment, when Sugar Plum had revealed the story of the Fateful Day, when she had seen the Goblin that had made Bog fall so desperately in love he had been driven to using that Love Potion. How even after all that time, Bog’s eyes still grew awestruck and helpless at the sight of her, his voice a soft, reverent whisper over  _the most beautiful creature he ever saw_ …

Whereas her reaction had been disgusted incredulity.

And now she had woken up to the fact that the creatures of the Dark Forest would have –  _did have_  - the same reaction over her.

_“- Must have been truly desperate to settle for **that**!” _

Marianne flinched, and hunched into herself. She shouldn’t be bothered, shouldn’t be hurt, those comments shouldn’t make her doubtful, shouldn’t make her probe at old insecurities…

…But what if she _was_ a detriment to Bog’s rule? What if she was a source of mockery? And then there was Bog himself…he loved her, obviously, but…did he actually think she was pretty, could she compare at all to his first love -?

Marianne shook her head, adamantly refusing to finish that thought. She tried to hold onto her anger at those gossipers, that judgmental, snotty moth, but misery softly stole over her like mist. She curled into herself, biting her lip and blinking her eyes carefully, not letting the prickle behind them grow.

Marianne preferred anger to sadness, a howl of rage over a wail of anguish. Anger was fuel, whereas sadness…sadness ate away at her. Sadness was her collapsing onto her bed back home, tears dripping over the rose petals after she had seen just how faithful Roland was. Sadness stole her strength from her, weakened her, and if there was one thing Marianne hated more in the world, it was being weak.

She rose from her seat, sighing. Whether it was a much need distraction or a way to avoid the problem, she needed to move, to clear her head. She was crossing to the door, not sure what she would do, when it opened suddenly.

Her heart leaped and she quickly backed up. Oh god, she wasn’t ready to talk to him, she wasn’t, it was too soon –

Griselda poked her head in, and gave her usual beaming grin. “Hiya honey! I just got word from the mushrooms – Boggy’s gonna be runnin’ a bit late, there’s an issue down at the swamp, something about rights to pond scum –“

Marianne nodded quickly, her heart still racing. “Yeah, of course, uh…sure, I’ll just wait up for him…here…”

“Aw, ain’t you sweet. He’s lucky to have ya, doll, never forget that!” Giving a little wave, Griselda withdrew from the door, and Marianne could hear her humming as she walk down the hall.

She had no idea where her next actions came from, but before Marianne knew it she was yanking the door back open and calling down the hall. “GRISELDA!”

Griselda turned back, arching a brow. “Yes, my little ragweed?”

Oh god,  _oh god_ , she couldn’t be doing this, she couldn’t believe she was doing this, but she had to talk to someone, had to ask someone, and yes, okay, it  _was_  Griselda, but at least Marianne knew that Griselda adored her, honestly liked her, and oh god, she had to ask, had to know…

Restraining a flinch at how desperate she was, Marianne leaned against the doorframe, ducking her head, unable to look the little goblin in the eyes. “Uhhh…Griselda? Do you…would you mind if we have a…a talk?”

Griselda gave blink before her face split into a delighted grin. “Oh, honey, I would love to!” She quickly turned and began to head back to Bog’s chambers.

Marianne quickly shook her head, glancing around. “Uh, um, could we…could we maybe do it where…where Bog won’t hear us when he comes back?”

Griselda paused at that, surprised, but she still gave a nod and began to head in another direction. “Sure thing, hon. We can go to the private dining room, it’s always been cozy. We’ll have ourselves some drinks, how does that sound?”

Marianne gave a faint grin, too worried about what she was going to do, and followed Griselda. “Sure…just, maybe not Goblin Ale. Once was enough for me.”

“Aw, one day we’ll get your liver tough enough,” Griselda assured her, making her way up a little flight of stairs, and Marianne gave a genuine huff of laughter at that.

Once they had finally reached the dining room – which was surprisingly quite a bit like the old room where Griselda had set up all those god-awful decorations – Griselda ducked behind a little counter and emerged with two goblets of a dark green-black liquid that smelled surprisingly fresh, almost bracing.

“Juniper wine” explained Griselda, noticing Marianne’s curious look. “Fairy brewed. It’s perfectly aged, we got it ages ago when a group of Foresters decided they wanted to, heh,  _liberate_  a few barrels of Fairy booze.”

“You stole our drinks?” Marianne recalled hearing her father complain about a stash of imported alcohol that had gone missing, and couldn’t help but grin. “Kind of glad we didn’t return the favor.”

“Well, normally most of us can’t stomach anything Fairy brewed or baked or what have ya, but this stuff hits the spot.” Griselda punctuated her statement with a noisy slurp of the wine and gave an “ _Ahhh,”_  of satisfaction.

Marianne couldn’t stop a chuckle at that, and Griselda grinned at her. “That’s good, laughter is good! Laughter breaks the ice! And,” Griselda put her goblet down on the table and leaned toward Marianne, wagging a finger at her, her expression getting a bit more serious, “believe me when I say I’ve missed hearing that. You normally laugh all the time when you’re with my boy, but lately… you’ve been a funk, hon. Is that why ya wanted to talk?”

Marianne took a sip from her own goblet, enjoying the crisp taste of the wine, far less powerful than Goblin Ale but still quite strong. She was stalling, they both knew it… _Okay, be brave._  “A funk,” she repeated, and she couldn’t keep a nervous edge out of her voice. “Um, a very noticeable one?”  _Real question -did Bog notice it?_

“Eh, I picked up on it, but then again, I’m naturally sensitive to that stuff,” Griselda shrugged sagely. “Ever since ya got back from that trip home to talk to the Fairy King about that nifty diplomacy idea, you’ve been a bit…down, that’s all. Something’s been pickin’ at ya, sweetie.” Griselda raised an eyebrow knowingly. “Maybe more than just one thing? Maybe something that has to do with my boy?”

Marianne couldn’t stop her shoulders from hunching up, and she gave Griselda a guilty glance.

“I could tell from the way you’ve been looking at him,” Griselda stated matter-of-factly. “Adoring as ever, but worried about somethin’. You’ve got an easy face to read, doll. Soooo…” the little goblin looked at Marianne questioningly. “What’s got your wings in a twist? Any trouble in paradise that I should know about?”

Marianne shook her head empathetically. “No, no, everything is fine between us, everything is…” she couldn’t stop the grin that curled at her lips, knowing it was sappy but not bothering to give a damn, “…wonderful, actually. It’s just…” Marianne sighed, not sure how to continue. She cast around for the right words, the perfect way to phrase her concerns delicately.

But honestly, delicacy wasn’t her forte and it was wasted on Griselda.  _What the heck, just go for it_. She took a deep breath and continued.

“Griselda, were you…were you uh, surprised when Bog and I started to, you know…”

Griselda gave a snort. “Surprised? Ah, honey, I could see it from the start!”

Marianne grimaced and waved her hands. “No no, that’s not – that’s not what I meant, uh, mean…uh, were you surprised that, I mean, since, uh… I’m a Fairy and he’s a Goblin, and uh, I just, I know that there’s…there’s different standards when it…uh, when it comes to, uh, attractiveness, and, um… ” She trailed off miserably. Oh god, this was the  _worst._

Griselda gave a warm cackle. “Oh, honey, you’re just like Bog sometimes - can’t spit out the littlest thing. It can’t be that bad, sweet pea! I mean, really, what are you worried about, not thinking you’re attractive to my boy?”

Silence seemed to echo in the room, and Marianne could only stare at Griselda with stricken eyes, unable to keep the wave of despair in her at bay.

Griselda looked at Marianne in shock, any trace of laughter gone. “Oh honey…” she whispered. “Oh honey, is that it? Why…oh my sweet little toadstool, what in the world put that in your head?”

Marianne shrugged miserably, looking away, the sympathetic pain in Griselda’s eyes too much for her. “I…I’ve just heard some comments from the goblins, and…well, when we were out in the Forest and we…we ran into your friends –"

_“- Must have been truly desperate to settle for **that**!” _

Griselda swore, and Marianne quickly realized where most of Bog’s curses came from. “It was that blasted Blanche, wasn’t it?” she demanded, scowling. “I swear, that hoighty-toighty moth has her nose so high up in the air she would drown in a rainstorm. Oh sweetie, she’s always been a snob about goblins and fairies keeping separate, don’t pay her any mind –"

“It wasn’t just her, though.” Marianne’s murmur was soft and dejected, and Griselda’s scowl melted into a look of pure concern. “I heard some of the goblins here talking -”

_“She may not be much to look at…”_

“ – And those were goblins who like me, and if there are others who are still against a Goblin and a Fairy…I just…if Bog is getting mocked for being with me, I don’t –"

“Sweetheart, listen to me, Kings get mocked all the time, even the Kings here. It’s part of the job description, you know that as well as I do. Maybe not to their face, certainly not to my boy, but there you are. Besides, Bog is a tough nut. He’s dealt with it before, he’ll deal with it again.” Griselda frowned at her. “What I’m wondering is how in the –"

The door to the dining room began to swing open.

“STUFF AND THANG, I SWEAR I WILL SKIN YER HIDES IF YOU TRY TO EAVESDROP ON THIS,” Griselda bellowed, causing Marianne to jump a good foot into the air, and the door to shut quickly.  Clearing her throat, Griselda looked back at Marianne. “Now, what I want to know is how in the world did you get this nonsense about Bog not being attracted to you?”

Even after glancing at the door to make sure it was closed, Marianne still hesitated. “I…I know it’s stupid, I do. It’s just that…Goblin standards and Fairy standards are different when it comes to beauty. And…” she paused, taking a deep breath. “Plum showed me the first girl he fell for, the one he used the Potion on. And…I just…I’m so  _different_  from that, how can he – I mean, do you honestly think  _he_  thinks I’m beau-"

“Oh, my little worrying ragweed, do you have any idea how much my Boggy adores you? The way he looks at you…” Griselda gave a dreamy sigh, which melted into a sad frown when she saw Marianne’s face, pensive and insecure. “Oh, lovebug, maybe you’re feelin’ all rough and insecure from whatever nasty comments ya heard, but darlin’, no matter what, no matter how different you think you two are, with those big eyes and that weird tuft of hair and that mass of fleshy, pinky skin - ”

Marianne cleared her throat a bit pointedly.

“ – My boy would still be utterly and completely head over heels for you, always and forever, no matter what you looked like.”  Griselda smiled at her, and even with how gapped tooth it was, even with the mossy hue of her teeth, it was incredibly kind. “That’s what love is.”

Marianne’s heart lifted a bit at that despite herself, before she frowned.  _Love that happened after only one night._  “There’s another thing,” she cautiously continued, running a finger along the rim of her goblet. “Is it…weird that we only really knew each other for only a night -?”

“Oh, sweetheart, listen to me,” Griselda sighed, knocking back her wine and pouring herself another goblet full. “Someone will always be there to call whatever you do weird. Some people ain’t happy unless they’re pickin’ at somethin’ or bringin’ someone down. But let me tell ya, the heart knows what it wants. As soon as the two of ya met, there was somethin’ there. ”

Marianne flashed back to that first meeting and slugging Bog hard across his face, and managed to bite her tongue.

“So what if you fell for each other after only a night?” Griselda grinned and nodded sagely. “Sometimes that’s all that love needs. It’s what happened with me and Bog’s father, ‘smatter of fact.”

Marianne’s ear pricked with interest despite herself – Bog never really talked about his dad. “His father?”

“Yeah…Gravener.” Griselda gave a little hum, her smile going wistful. “We met at one of the dances by the marsh where I grew up. Heck of a guy. Boggy really takes after him.”

Marianne had figured as much, seeing how different Bog and Griselda were.  _Gravener_ …it sounded appropriately impressive and grim for a ruler of the Dark Forest. She tilted her head curiously. “So…you two didn’t have a long courtship? Was it a whole Love at First Sight thing?”

Griselda burst into a cackling laugh, before breaking into a coughing fit. “Ya kiddin’ me? I thought he was an arrogant jerk of a Prince, and he thought I was an obnoxious, nagging wench of a commoner. We were both swearin’ up and down that we would never meet anyone who be as exasperatin’ as the other.” She sighed dreamily. “Ten days later, we got hitched. I never regretted a day of it since.”

Marianne blinked. “That was, uh…quick.”

Griselda gave another shrug, her face philosophical. “I was the town flirt, and he could be a regular ladies man. After we had that fight, we both knew that we had met the only person we couldn’t twist around our little fingers.” She grinned, her eyes bright as she looked off into the distance. “Ya know, I always thought I would go for some silver-tongued talker? And believe me, Gravener thought he was. But when he stuttered when he spoke to me, I knew I was a goner.”

Marianne smiled at Griselda’s dreamy walk down memory lane, before recalling her previous words. “Wait, _a regular ladies man?_ I thought you said Bog took after him!”

Griselda arched a brow at her. “Well, my boy may not have chased after a bunch of girls, but you try an’ tell me he can’t be smooth when he wants to be, honey!”

Marianne was about to do just that when she suddenly recalled that one unforgettable night.  _“The moonlight is… **perfect**  right now…”_

Okay, maybe she had a point…

“But that’s what I’m telling ya, sweet-pea,” Griselda wagged a finger at Marianne. “All we needed was one fight to show us we were meant to be. Do you wanna know why I was so eager to get you and Boggy together?”

_Because you were and still are desperate for grandkids?_  

Keeping her face carefully blank, Marianne gave a semi-shrug.

“Like I said, I could see it from the start. That first fight between the two of you…I knew he had met his match.” Griselda smiled at her and reached out a hand, clasping Marianne’s in a comforting grip. “That’s why you shouldn’t worry about all that Not Being Pretty by Goblin Standards nonsense. It doesn’t make sense, and it doesn’t change the truth – you two were meant to be.” She petted Marianne’s hand, and Marianne looked into her beady but warm eyes, hardly daring to let her heart get lighter, but…

“And if you’re gonna insist on keeping your mind on that silly stuff,” Griselda continued on dryly, once more reaching for her goblet. “Let me ask you somethin’, honey – does it matter to you if my boy is good looking by Fairy standards?”

Marianne blinked at her, thrown. “What -?  _No!_  No, that would be ridiculous –"

“And how about whether or not he’s a catch by Goblin standards?”

Marianne shook her head, annoyed. “It wouldn’t matter – Fairy standards or Goblin standards or whatever, it doesn’t matter! None of that would change how I feel about him and -”

Oh.

OH.

_Ohhhhh…_

“And the lightening strikes.” Griselda drained her goblet and threw up her hands. “The two of you, I swear. Thicker than wood and slower than mud.”  

Even if she had been able to talk just then, Marianne wasn’t sure she could argue with that. Oh god,  _oh god_ , she was such an  _idiot -!_

Of course it didn’t matter to her whether or not Bog was considered a catch by Fairy or Goblin standards, it didn’t matter at all because she would still love him, still want him in every single way, still look at him and have her heart twist at the sight of his eyes, her gut clench and cheeks flush when he did that neck thing, burn for him and his touch and crave the taste and feel of him,  _he has no idea what he does to me_ , and she didn’t care what anyone else thought because as long as she had him and he had her, that was what mattered –

As embarrassing as it was to admit, it hadn’t even crossed her mind that Bog would give those same reasons.

It was so obvious, so achingly clear, that Marianne was dumbfounded over her own blindness, marveling over how severely her worries had consumed her to the point of missing such a thing.  It didn’t matter if either one of them was considered attractive by any standards; neither one changed what was between them. She was wildly-madly-fiercely in love with Bog and found him so achingly attractive it was almost stupid. And Bog…

_He feels the same way. About me. Oh God, he feels the same way!_

Marianne exhaled in a great rush, and her smile was soft and slow, blooming like a rose. It was so obvious, but…she had never been one to be completely clear-eyed when it came to Love. She let out a shaky, wonderstruck laugh, then suddenly stopped, her eyes widening.

If she was pushed to such gloomy depths over a few comments about how she wasn’t a catch by Goblin standards, then what must he gone through with the fairies? She had never questioned her looks, but Bog had spent the majority of his years under the delusion that he was too hideous to be loved. What she had experienced this week was pathetically insignificant compared to what he had suffered nearly all his life. If he noticed her mood, in anyway at all, if he thought it was about him, he might jump to conclusions, he might –

Oh god, she was  _such_  an  _ **idiot!**_

Her heart racing, Marianne stood up quickly, nearly knocking her goblet over. “I’ve got to go,” she said, looking around blindly before she focused on Griselda again. “I’ve got to – I’ve got to see Bog, I’ve got to let him know –"

“You do what you need to do, baby doll,” Griselda soothed, and she raised her goblet in a little salute to Marianne, beaming contentedly. “It will be fine - you’re a smart girl.”

Marianne nodded and rushed to the door, before skidding to a halt. She looked over her shoulder at Griselda. “Uh, Griselda?”

“Yeah, sweetie?”

She struggled for a bit, trying to find the right words that could encompass everything she had given to Marianne. She bit her lip, and spoke to the floor. “Uh, just…thank you. Really. For…for everything. I needed this.” She glanced up at Griselda and gave her an awkward little grin, knowing she was completely and utterly botching what she was trying to say.

But Griselda merely smiled at her fondly. “Oh honey, I’m glad ya did. Sometimes we just need to blab to someone. You can always come to me, ya know that, right?”

Marianne gave a real, radiant smile at that, feeling her heart give a warm little glow.  “Well…now I do.” Remembering the reason for her haste – Bog would probably be back soon – she flew to the door and quickly waved a good-bye. “I’ll see you later, Griselda, I’ve got to –"

“Awww, go and give my boy some big smooches! He ain’t gonna fight it,” Griselda waved her on her way.

Rolling her eyes at that comment, but with a far more affectionate grin than she usually had after hanging out Griselda, Marianne darted down the hall, her mind and her heart throwing off any remaining gloom to focus on the same thing.

_Go find Bog._

* * *

She landed with a thump in his bedchambers later, stumbling a bit. She wildly looked around and gave a curse – nothing. She was getting increasingly worried and frantic. He hadn’t been in the Throne Room, not in any of the rooms she knew of, and none of the goblins had seen him. There actually was no real confirmation if he had in fact come back, and it was already late. She began to pace, not sure where to look next. Marianne wouldn’t have been in such a state of anxiety, but she had to find him while her talk with Griselda was fresh on her mind, while she was still brave,  _oh god, let me see him, I need to see him, I need to explain to him –_

The door swung open and Marianne spun around, her heart leaping into her throat when Bog walked in, striding toward her. She quickly drank in the sight of him, noticing the odd look of determination on his face, but she knew she had to focus. “Bog, I -"

Whatever she had been about to say was cut off as Bog abruptly pulled her to him and caught her mouth in a rough and utterly intoxicating kiss, one set of claws twining into her hair while his other hand ran down the length of her spine, pressing her as close as she could get to him.

Any desire to talk – as well as any semblance to coherent thought – vanished from Marianne’s mind as she felt his fangs bite at her lip, gentle but urgent, and she quickly wrapped her arms around him and yanked him down to her, eagerly surrendering to the kiss. Her hunger for him was even more potent after her realization –  _only you, only you matter, I don’t care if anyone else judges us, I don’t care as long as I have this, as long as I have you –_

The kiss deepened, exploring and exhilarating, and she moaned as Bog’s tongue stroked against hers, rough and warm and wonderful, and yup, there went her knees. He quickly caught her, both hands on her back, dragging down between her wings in a rough, protective caress, his claws scratching at her skin, and she shivered at the sensation. Holy  _hell_ , but he knew how to use his hands –

He gave her one last kiss, softer now, before he gently pulled away to look at her. Marianne looked up at him, utterly dazed. Both her ears and her cheeks were burning with a deep flush, her eyes were undoubtedly glazed, and her entire body was limp with pleasure in his arms. Her mind struggled to come out of the blissful haze as he gazed at her, silently drinking her in – she should say something, she had been about to say something –

“…Hey,” she breathed, her voice faint and throaty. And  _wow_ , okay, that was a stunning thing to say after he had done  _that_. But Bog merely gave that little slant of a grin she loved and pulled her close once more, and she gratefully sank against his chest. In all honesty, it would have been completely unfair to expect her to say anything remotely intelligent or even intelligible after a kiss like that. She was still making a valiant attempt to continue anyway when Bog spoke.

“In case there are any more lingering doubts,” he murmured against her brow, and she closed her eyes, letting the soft, husky rumble of his voice wash over her, “please know that I am very much attracted to you, and always will be.”

Still under the spell of his voice, Marianne gave a blink at that. Then she wrenched herself away and swatted at him.  _“You heard that?!”_

“Marianne - ”

“OH MY GOD!”

Bog held up his hands, trying to calm her down. “I wasn’t trying to, I just heard you and Mother talking –"

“Oh god, it was you at the door!?” Marianne groaned, putting her head in her hands. “Dammit, you heard  _all of it_  –!"

“Not all of it, no,” he hurriedly assured her, his eyes earnest and worried. “I truly wasn’t going to listen, I only wanted to see what you were up to, but then I heard Mother say that, and…” He paused, looking at her with bewildered unhappiness. “Marianne, how could you ever think that I didn’t – I mean, did I…did I do something, say something -?”

Her heart gave an agonized twist at his miserable confusion. “No, it was nothing you did, it was all me,” Marianne reassured him, but he still looked so worried, so nervous that she crossed to him and ran a hand along his cheek soothingly. “Bog, believe me, this was never about you, this was about me and…I had just heard some things this past week, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, I let all of it get to me…”

She frowned in concern as he avoided her gaze, and gently tugged his face to her so he had no choice but to look her in the eyes. His eyes were uncertain but quietly desperate, his body tense, and she gave his brow a gentle kiss. “Bog, all my doubts…it was all me, all because I was being an insecure idiot. I never doubted you.”

“But you did.” She looked up, her heart giving a hard little thump; he looked away, his expression withdrawn, and his voice was a quiet, sad murmur. “You doubted that I found you – find you – beautiful.” It was a statement, not a question.

She winced. “I…Bog, I’m sorry. I just heard those comments, I got nervous, and I know that goblins and fairies have different standards, and…” She hesitated, before murmuring, “I couldn’t stop thinking about that the first girl, how you were so in love with her, and I just…” The look on Bog’s face was making her want to curl up in a little miserable ball – she knew it still hurt him to talk about it, that Fateful Day. “I just…after all those comments, I just got insecure.”

“I swear, heads will roll when I find out who said those things,” Bog snarled low in his throat, and she couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“You’re so sweet,” she gently mocked, but the smile she gave him was genuine. “I wasted too much time on worrying about that, you don’t need to do the same. Besides,” she continued, as Bog rolled his eyes, obviously disagreeing with her but not wanting to interrupt, “Griselda helped me see that none of that stuff matters.”

Bog quirked a brow at her. “She did?”

Marianne gave huff of a laugh – she couldn’t blame him for his surprise, she would have had the exact same reaction. “Yeah, she did…” she said, and she let herself lean against him once more, draping her hands over his shoulders, and he circled his arms around her, drawing her close. “Fairy standards, Goblin standards, what anyone else says or thinks…nothing is ever going to change how I feel about you.” She ducked her head down before continuing softly. “Or how you feel about me.”

Claws lifted her chin up, and she felt her heart thud for an entirely different reason as he gazed down into her eyes. “I’d like to see them try,” he murmured, his eyes intense, his voice heartfelt, and she let out a shaky sigh before snuggling up to him, closing her eyes. His hands stroked down her back, gentle and protective, and she felt a fierce rush of gratitude and love for him. Let anyone try to change them – they would fight for each other, no matter what.

She felt Bog shift. “Next time, Tough Girl, you talk to me if you feel like that, alright?” She could tell how awkward he felt saying it, but he soldiered on anyways. “I don’t like it anymore than you do, but…we need to get better at telling each other that sort of thing.”

She gave a little grumble, but a grin was already beginning to spread across her mouth. “I know…it just sucks when we actually have to do it.”

He gave a snort. “If it stops you from getting moronic ideas like I’m not attracted to you, than I say it’s well worth the discomfort. I still can’t believe you thought that. No offense, love, but you can be quite the idiot.”

Marianne looked up at him and gave him a sweet, sugary smile, batting her eyes. “We’re so lucky we have so much in common.”

He gave a chuckle at that, and she couldn’t help but join in, feeling herself relax in a way she hadn’t been able to all this week. It would be weird, it would always be weird to talk about this stuff, but they could do it, they could do anything as long as they had each other. Although…

She shot him a cheeky look. “You know, I’m still going to talk with your mom. That women knows her stuff.”

Bog groaned. “I don’t want nor need to know what future conversations the two of you will get up to.”

She gave him a poke. “Hey now, no need to be rude. I mean it – it helped out a lot.” She paused, quietly reflecting over how much she had missed having a mother to talk to, when another thought occurred to her. “You said you didn’t hear the whole conversation – when did you leave?”

“When you started talking about my father,” Bog replied, idly stroking her hair. 

Marianne gave hum. “He sounds…interesting.”

Bog gave a dry laugh. “That’s one way of putting it. He wasn’t one to suffer fools, that’s for certain. And he harbored no love for any creatures beyond of the Forest. But…” Bog paused, and looked away. “He was a strong King.”

“Griselda says you’re a lot like him.” Bog made a wry face at that, and Marianne studied him with thoughtful quietness before she murmured, “I’d like to hear more about him, one day. If you ever want to tell me.”

Bog paused at that, his expression not going angry or still, but merely contemplative. “…Maybe,” he finally answered. “Maybe one day.”  

She let him leave it at that, understanding his reluctance. Even after all those years, she could still struggle when talking about her mother. It seemed like the relationship between father and son might not have been an easy one, and she was more than willing to let Bog decide when he wanted to share that part of his past with her. She stroked his cheek once more before standing up on her toes to give him a kiss there. One scaly arm caught her and held her there, and she felt him press a kiss to the crown of her head. She smiled, her stomach giving a little squirm of pleasure, before Bog leaned back to look at her sternly.

“There will be no more nonsense about worrying over whether or not you’re attractive to me, right?” He snaked a hand through her hair, anchoring her there. “I won’t stand for that, Tough Girl.”

Marianne rolled her eyes. “If you want me to promise you I will never ever feel insecure about myself again, I can’t. But…I think we spilled our hearts enough tonight to clear up any misunderstandings.”

“I’m serious, Marianne.” She knew he was, she could tell it from the hard line of his mouth, the earnest glint in his eyes. “I’m not sure what poison you heard to make you think that, but if you think that I don’t look at you and – that I wouldn’t think you’re the most beautiful –"

Marianne’s heart gave an intense flutter as he sighed, frustrated and tripping over his words in his need to make her understand. He glanced at her, the sheer blue of his eyes sending a familiar shiver down her spine, and looked away, exhaling roughly. “Gods, Marianne, you have no idea what you do to me,” he muttered quietly.

Marianne felt her heart seize up at those words, dizzy with a sudden lack of air. The same thing she felt for him, _he has no idea what he does to me,_  that same sentiment, _he feels the same way –_

She bit her lip to stop her grin, and hummed thoughtfully. “Well, I didn’t…” she admitted in a murmur, before twining her arms around his neck and giving him a soft smile. “But…I think I’m beginning to.”

Bog looked as though he wanted to say more, but she wasn’t done. “But to be on the safe side…” she continued in a sultry purr, beginning to languidly stroke his neck and shoulders, teasingly tracing rough lines and seams, and Bog’s breath hitched in his throat. Giving him with a sly, seductive look, she let her hands trail down his chest and slowly began to walk backwards to the bed, still holding onto him. “…How about you show me?”

Bog gave blink at that, but soon gave an answering smile that was slow and dark and crooked and sent a delicious, aching pulse of pleasure through her. “I think I can do that,” he murmured, leaning his face down to hers, his voice a rough, heated promise. Marianne gave little hum of pleasure and nuzzled his cheek, the rasp of his skin against hers bringing her already heightened senses to a glorious burning peak, and her moan was almost a laugh as his mouth claimed hers in a tender and achingly thorough kiss.

The path to the bed was a lot more difficult as they became increasingly lost in each other, hands roaming and clutching, their kiss deepening to the point of intoxication. Marianne gave little grunt when she felt her legs hit the side of the mossy bed, but was once again distracted when Bog tugged her body flush against his, his caresses getting more urgent. She audaciously rolled her hips against his, intentionally and torturously slow, and his inhale at that was a rasp of shock and pleasure. Marianne gave a grin and playfully bit at his lip, before gasping loudly when he bit almost savagely into the kiss, his fangs scraping against her in his desperate and hungry need.

Her head spinning, Marianne valiantly tried to remain upright when he turned his attentions to her neck, shaking as he bit and kissed his way from her throat to her jaw, tried to remain the littlest bit of sensible, tried to remember that they couldn’t go too far, get too carried away –

Bog’s tongue slid along her ear before he nipped at it, giving a low growl of pure need.

_Aw, screw it._

She hooked a leg around his knee and sent them both tumbling down onto the bed.

* * *

Griselda made her way down the corridor, feeling very content indeed. Her rooms were shaping up nicely what with the new décor, and that little chat with Marianne had also contributed to her good mood. She had felt very touched that the Fairy Princess had trusted her enough to seek her help, and it was just plain nice to have another woman at the Dark Castle to really talk to.

Besides, she took it as a good sign that Marianne was getting more and more comfortable here, even if she had gotten a nasty shock from those ridiculous comments - speaking of which, Griselda was going to be having some very choice words indeed with that snotty-nosed Blanche. The longer the Fairy stayed here and the more she kept Boggy company, the more confident Griselda became over the chance she would actually live to see a wedding and some grandkids. She had waited this long, she could wait a while longer…though there was no harm if giving the two lovebirds a little nudge when she could.

And maybe she hadn’t caught them getting, well,  _romantic_ , but she was sure she wouldn’t have to wait long. In the mean time, she could check up on Marianne and see if she was feeling better now. Thang had reported that he had last seen the Princess flying off to the King’s quarters. 

She reached Bog’s room and banged on the door. “MARIANNE! IT’S GRISELDA, YOUR DEARLY BELOVED HOPEFULLY SOON-TO-BE-MOTHER-IN-LAW!” She swung at the door open and cheerfully continued. “So honey doll, any luck with finding my son –"

Griselda stopped as she took in the scene before her. Bog and Marianne were both sitting on his bed, a respectable distance between them, neither of them touching each other. But Marianne’s hair was in complete disarray, her clothing mussed, and her cheeks and the tips of her ears were primrose pink, her mouth looking thoroughly red and bitten. Bog was equally flushed, and there was a mark on his neck that Griselda knew for sure hadn’t been there this morning. Both of them were obviously struggling to catch their breaths, their chests heaving, and were failing horribly at looking cool and collected as they watched Griselda warily.

She blinked and then grinned, vastly amused. “Well, no need to ask what you two were doing!”

Marianne managed to flush an even darker shade of pink, and Bog closed his eyes, mortified.  _“Mother –"_

“Hey, at least I knocked.” Griselda shook her head at them fondly. “I just wanted to check on your little lady, that’s all. But I’d say everything is fine, huh honey?”

Marianne’s shoulders hunched up to nearly her ears, but she managed a tiny little grin and nod. Bog merely looked as though he was trying to will himself to unconsciousness.   

“Great! I’ll leave you two alone,” Griselda backed away from the door and gave a cheerful wave. “You two have fun!” She slammed the door on the sound of Marianne making a sound between a choke and snort and Bog’s snarl.

Griselda grinned to herself once more and started off down the hall, a spring in her step. Yup, she  _definitely_  had a chance at seeing that wedding.

**Author's Note:**

> A quick little note - I know that Bog and Marianne are getting pretty heavy with their make outs in this, but I feel like after the events of "Well Met By Moonlight", they would loosen up considerably and go a little bit crazy when it comes to enjoying each others company, in every way possible… ;^)
> 
> That's not to say they aren't still awkward dorks and still wouldn't struggle at some things, and I think the kiss Bog gives her toward the end is one born more out of a need to reassure her. But for right now...they've both pretty much reverted back to an almost teenage-like state of Rampant Hormones and Lust. Those *nerds*.


End file.
